


The Nice Guys Ficlet Collection.

by ZubbitheDuck



Category: The Nice Guys (2016)
Genre: Face Punching, Father-Daughter Relationship, Feel-good, Feelings, Ficlet Collection, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Protective Jackson Healy, Secret Relationship, Self-Doubt, Short One Shot, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZubbitheDuck/pseuds/ZubbitheDuck
Summary: A collection of small ficlets of everyday scenarios of one of the best otp couples. No plot, no storyline, a new short ficlet for every chapter, with no red line to the others.
Relationships: Jackson Healy & Holland March, Jackson Healy/Holland March
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! <3
> 
> I’m from Scandinavia and I write almost always on my phone, so sorry in advance for errors or maybe even autocorrect.
> 
> I am so mad that I only realized the existence of this movie/novel a month ago. It is obviously fantastic and I love it. 
> 
> Normally I write longer fics with plot, but then I quite often loose interest and feel bad about that, so this time I decided to make a handful of small ones with no silver lining. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to tell me what you think or if you have ideas for some. I’d love to know. <3

“What are you staring at?” Holly chipped up in her sweet voice.

Healy was nonchalantly leaning on one arm on the counter, his eyes watching the lanky guy out in the garden. March was awkwardly watering the bushes in the garden, he had out of a sudden insisted that they really needed it and that he was much of a garden-man, to which Holly and Healy had shared a confused glance. Now the idiot was trying to spray water on a pigeon. Healy could hear him shout something inaudible at it before taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I am watching the freak show.” Healy mused and gave Holly a tiny smile. The girl replied with a grin. 

“Also we need to talk.” Healy continued in a bit more serious manner. He placed a hand on the counter and leaned on it, facing the girl.

“Did I do something?” Holly knew just how to look innocent, a trait that Healy was sure she had inherited from her father. She batted her lashes but deep down she knew they didn’t work on the bad cop of her dad-duo. 

“You can’t go around telling people you have two dads, not even as a joke.” Healy explained. He loved Holly like he probably would his own daughter, but most people weren’t too happy about two guys sharing a home. 

She bashfully looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry. But people don’t seem to care.” She argued but she knew by the way Healy watched her that this wasn’t up for negotiations. “Nothing happened.” She continued with a dramatic shrug, another thing she mimicked from Holland. 

A flashback ran through Healy’s mind from the other night;

_ “Pretty boy.” A stranger catcalled in a provocative way before slapping March’s butt with a loud  _ SMACK!  _ March bolted up into the air, cigarette flying out of his hand and he instinctively swatted the hand away.  _

_ “What the hell was that for?” March raised a brow, a frown under his well-groomed moustache.  _

_ “Heard out in town that you’re fag.” The stranger had a dangerous grin plastered on his face but it turned into a painful grimace and a yell when he was taken by surprise as Healy grabbed his hand and twisted two of his fingers back.  _

_ “That’s quite a bad word you're throwing around.” Healy mumbled in a careless tone.  _

_ “What the fuck-“ the man cut himself off with a shriek as Healy bended his fingers further. _

_ “Be a good boy and apologise.” Healy seemed almost bored with the whole ordeal. He loved the power he had, but he hated how some people thought they could go around messing with others.  _

_ “Fuck if I’m gonna-“ _

_ “He will snap them.” March cut in. His voice and face seemed almost worried for the other. He had known Healy for quite some time now and the guy was not kidding. God, the guy had broken March’s arm the first time they met.  _

_ “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please, don’t break my hand!” He begged and Healy couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.  _

_ “Coward.” He mused and he wanted to break his fingers, just for sport, but March gave him that puppy look that said a lot. _

“Your dad doesn't like the attention it’s giving him.” Healy continued and was about to reach over to brush a strand of blonde hair from Holly’s face when they heard a  _ thump  _ followed by a curse. They both turned their attention to the garden where March had fallen flat on his back, slipping on the wet grass where he had poured water only seconds ago.

“He’s an idiot.” Holly said flatly, though she meant it in the best of ways. 

“That’s why we love him.” Healy said, as flat as her.

“Do we, though?” 

That earned a huff and a grin from the gruff one. He and Holly might only have known each other for two years, but she had taken up so many of Healy’s traits. Her mother must have been one steel-minded woman who knew how to handle herself, because that courage and proudness was not from her father.


	2. Chapter 2

Healy’s breathing was deep and calm, a snore leaving him rhythmically. His hand was placed on his chest that moved up and down. It was an annoying sound, the snoring. It triggered March and he wanted to slap the sleeping man.

Healy always did that, snoring, that is. March knew that if he wanted sleep then he had to fall asleep before the bigger guy. Though it did not help him in the morning when the sun would peep in through the blinds and his mind would become aware. On his nights alone he would turn to the other side and snuggle back down, which he also did when Healy stayed the night, but then the snoring would get to him.

March turned again, his back to the noise that was occupying half the bed. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to shield out the light from the window. It created this reddish glow behind his eyelids and March gave a dramatic sigh before bolting up from the bed, hoping that the other would wake up, but of course he didn’t. 

March pulled on a pair of pants, then grabbed his cigarettes and went outside. As he went through the kitchen he flicked the switch on the coffeemaker. There were dirty glasses and a few empty bottles on the counter. Holly was staying at Jessica’s or J-something’s, she would be gone for most of the day, that would be enough time for the two to clean up and act like nothing had happened. 

The sun felt a lot nicer like this, directly on his skin and with the nicotine getting in him. When the cigarette was burned out, March got up and went inside again. The snorkelling from the coffeemaker felt nice. He figured it was about time to wake up Healy, maybe cuddle a little before they would get breakfast. They rarely had the possibility of these lazy mornings.

March sauntered back into the bedroom, Healy was still on his back, his head tilted to the side and his mouth slightly open. 

An idea rushed through March’s head. Maybe a kiss on the others cheek could wake him up. 

Or better …

Now this was a brilliant idea. 

March snuck closer with a snicker, he felt so funny and clever when he bend down and whispered;

“Jack, wake up.” 

Healy gave a grunt and shut his mouth. His snoring stopped and March made a mental note to try that the next time they slept together and Healy would wake him up with it. 

March had a hard time choking down his laughter as he reached over and gave a hard flick across the shell of Healy’s ear. He bit his lip to hold in his snicker, but in the same second he was hit right across the cheekbone with a fist.

With a gasping yelp, March stepped back with both hands on his hurt cheek. 

“Ow?!” He whined loudly and glared at Healy. The guy was leaning on his elbow and watched March with a deadly glare. 

“Don’t flick my ear, you annoying shit.”

March pouted like a child and rubbed his cheek. That really backfired, but at least he was awake now. 

“And then come here and let me kiss it better.” Healy instructed and pulled the other down into the bed. Healy’s skin was warm and March forgave him the second the otherwise aloof guy kissed his face. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled between kisses.

“Nah, I should’ve known by now.” March chuckled. 


	3. Chapter 3

“Am I a bad father?” March whined as he watched Holly hurry down the street in anger, her hands balled in fists and had it been a cartoon, she would have had a thundercloud over her head. 

Healy was at the driver's seat of the convertible, an arm resting on the side, the other firmly on the steering wheel. March sat matching the other, but he screened the sun away from his eyes, by the hand resting in the side of the car. His sunglasses weren’t enough. 

Healy shrugged without caring too much. Holly was a dangerously smart girl and she could handle herself. Her dad could be an idiot, but he meant his stupidity in a good way. Besides, Holly could be headstrong and get herself into not too well thought out situations. Like her father. 

“In your own way, I guess. Or not. I mean you are a father. Her father, so … there’s that. No one’s perfect.” Healy explained. Expressing emotions wasn't his strong suit, March was the softy, and he needed a bit more comfort than Healy did.

“You saying I’m not a good dad?” March said in a panicking voice. 

“I did not.”

“You implied it.”

“I did not.” Healy gave a deep sigh. March could be such a handful.

“Then say it.”

“Say what?” Healy raised a brow and watched the other with a side glance. Even with sunglasses on, he had to squint at the burning sun. March watched him with what seemed like an emotionless mask, only his eyes betraying him.

“That I’m a good dad to Holly.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Healy saw the frown forming on March’s face and suddenly he seemed truthfully hurt. He was a single father and he had been through a lot of stress and been dealing with a depression that he never really accepted. Sometimes his fuse would burn out and sadness got the better of him. Maybe it was Healy’s fault. March needed to be acknowledged and praised a lot more than Healy to get through life. Healy knew he should be better at it, but it was hard and it felt awkward. 

“I think that you are a great dad.” It felt forced, it wasn’t. His smile was kind of fake, he never nailed it naturally, but the frown on March’s face was replaced with a short smile and he gave a single nod, it was worth it. 

March blew out air and gave a single clap, snapping them both out of it before saying;

“Now, let’s go get my daughter before she does something stupid.”


End file.
